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Daddy Next Door

Page 3

by Carol Voss


  Alyssa met his eyes. “The doctor thinks all that crying helped him get rid of most of the smoke.”

  “Just keep him warm.” Ken handed the baby’s blankets to Coop, then flashed a sympathetic smile at Alyssa. “I’ll probably see you and your children again if you decide to stick around. Good to see you, Coop.”

  “You, too.”

  Ken retreated to the back rooms of the clinic.

  Coop helped Alyssa wrap the blankets around the baby, wishing he could do something to still her shaking hands. He scooped Joey onto his shoulders and led the way to hold the door for her and the baby.

  By the time they had the kids in their car seats in the backseat of his crew cab and were headed to Rainbow Lake, he had time to focus on problems ahead. Like in what shape would they find the cottage? When he’d followed the ambulance, firefighters had been pouring water onto the roof by the boatload.

  Alyssa turned from looking at her kids in their car seats. “They’re already asleep. They’ve had a very rough day.”

  “So have you,” he said.

  “I should have known better than to light a fire in a fireplace that hasn’t been used for a while.”

  “I doubt many people would think about that.”

  “Well, definitely not me. I’m sorry for being such a burden.”

  “You’re not a burden. I’m glad to help. Do you want to use my cell to call somebody?”

  “I have my own.” She fumbled in her jacket pockets, then shakily pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I don’t know where it is at the moment, but there’s nobody to call anyway.” She set her lips in a determined line, as if sheer will could get her through. “Did Hope stay home alone?”

  “Digger’s with her. She’s insulted now if I insist somebody stay with her.”

  “How old is she?”

  “I can hardly believe she’s already twelve. She grew three inches this past year. Had her hair cut short. Even let the orthodontist fit her with braces to correct her ‘rabbit teeth’ as she calls them. I worry she’s changing too fast for me to keep up with her. But she’s terrific.”

  “Yes, she is.” A fleeting smile briefly softened Alyssa’s tense expression.

  “Of course, I’m her dad. I’m supposed to think that, right? I’m sure Joey’s dad felt the same way.”

  “Yes.”

  “Joey said his daddy lives in heaven.”

  She took a quick breath.

  Coop glanced at her. She looked straight ahead, distant and withdrawn. The poor woman was obviously still grieving. “How did it happen?”

  “Car crash.”

  Sudden, then. “How long?”

  “Nearly a year.”

  “You had your baby after your husband died. That’s rough.”

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. Silence for a beat or two. “I worry about Joey. He misses his dad so much. But moving to Gram’s cottage is our new beginning.” She sniffed.

  He hoped she wasn’t crying. “Would it help to talk to your folks?”

  “My parents? Absolutely not. They’d probably be on the next flight to rescue us. That’s the last thing I need.”

  “Don’t like being rescued?”

  “I don’t like being a charity case.”

  “We all need charity sometimes.”

  “Believe me, I’ve accepted my quota over the past year. It’s time to do things for myself like my gram did. That’s why I moved here.”

  “To Rainbow Lake? Sounds like you admired your grandmother.”

  “Yes. I loved being here with her. She used to insist my job was to enjoy being a kid,” Alyssa said softly. “My life at home was so structured that I often felt guilty for wasting time here. But Gram shared important secrets with me.”

  He turned onto Rainbow Lake Road. “Secrets?”

  “You know...intangible things. She always knew where the best blueberries grew. Where loons and wood ducks nested. Where to find the fattest night crawlers for bait. She helped me understand about being self-sufficient.”

  “Ah.” He couldn’t imagine her silky, white hands touching a night crawler, let alone baiting a hook with it. “Your grandmother shared some of her secrets with my daughter. When we moved here, Emma became kind of a surrogate grandmother to Hope.”

  “I’m glad. For Hope and for Gram. I worried about her being lonely. Gramps died when I was a baby.”

  “She talked about him sometimes. But everybody loved Emma. She had too many friends to be lonely. Her grandson Lucas stayed a few weeks the past couple summers, too. Good kid. Your cousin, right?”

  She nodded. “My father’s younger sister’s son. He must be almost out of high school by now.”

  Obviously not a close family. “He’s at West Point. Emma was very proud of him. And of you.”

  “Thank you for telling me that.”

  “You’re welcome. Your grandmother was a generous woman, always helping somebody out, shared produce from her garden with the whole neighborhood. And she kept Hope and me supplied with plenty of those chewy oatmeal chocolate cookies of hers.”

  “She was her own woman. I want to teach my children the values she taught me.” Her voice trembled. “That’s why I moved to the cottage.”

  She sure expected a lot from that run-down little place. Anyway, the fire would undoubtedly change everything. He wasn’t sure there would actually be anything to salvage.

  Headlights bobbed as they hit the unavoidable potholes. The fire trucks had left. He tore his gaze from the road to glance at Alyssa peering intently through the windshield as if waiting for her first glimpse of the cottage. He sure hoped it hadn’t burned to the ground.

  Finally, the cabin’s silhouette took shape in the darkness ahead.

  “Oh.” The word escaped her lips on a breath. “It looks okay.”

  Okay might be a stretch. But it was still standing. He swerved into the yard and braked to a stop.

  Alyssa was out of the truck and running.

  He grabbed his flashlight from the seat and wasn’t far behind. The stench of smoke stinging his nostrils and eyes, he jogged up the steps and through the open door, barely avoiding slamming into her.

  She stood deathly still just inside the door, a shattered, dripping cell phone in her hand.

  “Yours?”

  She gave him a distracted nod, her gaze following his flashlight beam, which darted from burned-off electrical wires hanging from overhead beams to the soaked, smoke-blackened couch and stuffed chair near the hearth, as if she couldn’t find a focus.

  His flashlight spotlighted a jagged hole in the roof around the chimney that gaped like an open mouth. Water dripped into a pool on the floor, the pluck of each drop the only sound.

  He tried to think of anything to do but to put his arm around her. Being a stranger, he wasn’t sure she’d welcome that anyway. Giving her a moment alone was the best he could come up with. “I’ll take a look in the kitchen.”

  He strode across the smoke-blackened living room and into the tiny kitchen. Smoke damage, but no water. Glancing around, he bent and picked up a toy figure. Braveman stared at him, dirty but still in superhero condition, just as he’d promised Joey. Coop stuffed the toy into his pocket and walked back into the living room.

  Alyssa stood exactly where he’d left her. Silent tears streamed down her delicate face.

  He clenched his jaw hard. How could he just stand there? How could he pretend nothing was wrong while she fell apart just feet away? How could he not do something?

  It wasn’t in him.

  He walked across the room and pulled her into his arms. She felt soft, tender, vulnerable. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder. Sobs shook her slender body. She cried as if now that she’d started, she
might never stop.

  Nothing got him like tears. Desperate to help her feel better, he wrapped her close. Gently stroked her hair.

  It had been way too long since he’d held a woman. And this woman was delicious with eyes as blue and deep as Rainbow Lake. She was lost, alone, totally out of her element with two little kids to take care of.

  “I’ll never be ready for Christmas now,” she blurted.

  He released her and took a step back. “Christmas seems the least of your problems.”

  “I have to be established before my parents—” She gave her head a vigorous shake. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  She had that right. He dug his clean handkerchief out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

  Shaking her head, she took a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her tears. “I’m sorry I’m such a pathetic wreck.”

  “No need to apologize.” He wanted to gather her back into his arms, but he held his ground.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for us.” She didn’t quite look him in the eye. “Now, I need to transfer the boys to my car.”

  “Where will you go?”

  “I remember a bed-and-breakfast on Rainbow Lake. Is it still here?”

  “Mrs. Hendrickson closed it while she recovers from gall bladder surgery.”

  “Oh.” Alyssa was clearly disappointed. “I guess I’ll have to find a place in town, then.”

  Coop wished he had better news. “Motels in Noah’s Crossing are closed for the season. Owners head south for the winter.”

  “All of them?”

  “There are only two.”

  “Oh.” She nibbled her pretty bottom lip as if at a loss to figure out what to do next.

  His stomach knotted. Watching her flounder was downright painful.

  “I’m sure I passed a motel about an hour back.”

  The determination in her voice tugged at him, made him want to reassure her. But she needed more than reassurance. She needed concrete help. And that he could provide. “We have a guest room you’re welcome to use for the night.”

  She shook her head. “That’s very kind, but I can take care of this.”

  “What if the motel you saw is closed? As exhausted as you look, you could even fall asleep at the wheel. Stay tonight. Your problems will look more manageable in the light of day. You can decide what to do then.”

  Chapter Three

  Alyssa sat at the island in Ben’s bright, cozy kitchen while he made the hot chocolate he’d insisted she needed. Hadn’t he already done enough?

  She watched him stir the milk-cocoa mixture on the stove and effortlessly retrieve a bag of marshmallows from an upper cabinet shelf. The man was tireless.

  She, on the other hand, was exhausted, irritable and overwhelmed with her inability to take care of herself and her boys over the past few hours. First, the fire. An accident, of course, but she’d been at fault.

  Then her meltdown with Ben paled only in light of how easily she’d given in to his invitation to spend the night in his guest room. But endangering her boys by driving who knew how far when she was drained would have been foolish when he’d offered her a safe alternative.

  “One marshmallow or two?” Ben looked at her expectantly.

  “One, please.” To make things worse, he’d helped her haul in her sleeping boys, Robbie’s Pack ’N Play, their suitcases. He’d even strung heavy electric cords together to power heaters he lugged to the cottage to prevent water pipes from freezing without waiting for her to help after she’d finished tending to Robbie. How she’d ever repay him for everything he was doing for her, she had no idea.

  “Here you go.” He set a steamy, frothy mug of hot chocolate on the counter in front of her, the image worthy of Bon Appétit.

  “Thank you.”

  “Enjoy.” With a smile, he lifted his cup as if to salute her and brought it to his lips.

  She took a sip of the creamy, rich chocolate. “So delicious.”

  “Nothing like hot chocolate on a cold, fall evening...in the Midwest anyway.”

  “Mmm,” she agreed. “Have you always lived in the Midwest?”

  He shook his head. “My dad was in the marines, so we lived all over the world while I was growing up. My mother is Vietnamese.”

  “Somehow, Vietnam and hot chocolate don’t seem to go together, do they?”

  He smiled. “My mother put berries in it.”

  “Berries?” She couldn’t help noticing he had the warmest smile. “Healthier than marshmallows.”

  “It was great.”

  “How did you end up at Rainbow Lake?”

  He thought a moment. “Hope and I moved from Chicago seven years ago.”

  “City boy?”

  “Surprised?”

  She shook her head. “You have that city edge.”

  “Then I guess what they say is true.” He took a drink of hot chocolate.

  “You can take the boy out of the city, but not the city out of the boy? What did you do in Chicago?”

  “I was a reporter for the Trib, pretty entrenched in my job and very involved in finding housing for the homeless. There’s a real need in this country,” he said with conviction. “What about you?”

  “I grew up in D.C., but I always loved summers at Rainbow Lake. Gram made me feel confident I could accomplish anything.”

  “You strike me as a woman who feels confident wherever you are.”

  “I try. Gram used to tell me that trying is winning.”

  “Astute lady.”

  She smiled, remembering the sunny afternoon she’d fully understood Gram’s lesson on trying. “When I was about ten, she used to let me paddle the canoe around by myself while she watched from the pier. With a life jacket, of course. I felt invincible. Too much so, I guess, because one day, I managed to tip the canoe over. When I came up for air, I was shocked Gram wasn’t swimming out to save me.”

  He chuckled.

  “All she said was, ‘Don’t let the canoe drift away.’ Then she sat sipping her lemonade and let me try over and over to right the canoe and climb back in. When I finally succeeded, I felt like queen of the mountain.”

  “What a way to instill self-confidence.”

  “See what I mean? She believed in me enough to let me try until I could believe in myself. Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense.”

  “Good. As a mother, I appreciate her even more. Things haven’t been easy since my husband’s death, but it’s very important to me to make a good life for my boys and give them the space they need to believe in themselves. That’s why I moved to the cottage. To believe in myself again. It’s why having my parents here for Christmas dinner is so important.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need to show them, and myself I guess, that I am getting my life together. I’m just sorry you got caught in my struggles to do it, that’s all.”

  He frowned. “Like I said, I’m glad I can help.”

  He really seemed sincere about that. “I don’t know what I would do without your help tonight.” She sipped her chocolate.

  “Enough with the gratitude, okay? Do you have insurance on the cottage?”

  “Yes.” She’d been so honored Gram had left the cottage to her that she’d stood up to her father the way Gram would have and insisted on buying her own insurance. It was one of her proudest moments over this past year.

  “Great. The structure looks sound. You can have it looked at, see if it’s worth fixing.”

  She frowned. “Because of the cost?”

  He nodded.

  What if it cost too much? She couldn’t deal with that possibility right now. “Can we talk about you for a while?”

  “What do you want to know?�


  She thought for a moment. “You said you were very involved with finding housing for the homeless in Chicago. How did that happen?”

  “Through Hope’s mother.”

  “Oh. Was she a social worker?”

  A small cloud passed over his features.

  “I’m sorry. We don’t need to talk about her if it’s too painful.”

  “It’s okay. To answer your question, no, she wasn’t a social worker. Actually, I met Shelby when I did a series of articles to inform the public about drug addiction.” His face softened. “She was a great subject...honest, strong, brave...and pregnant. And she was fighting hard to stay clean for her baby.”

  Alyssa frowned, not following. “You mean...Hope? She was pregnant with Hope?”

  He nodded. “I helped her get off the streets and into a shelter for pregnant girls. She found a job, took good care of Hope for a few months after she was born...” He shook his head. “Shelby was the little sister I never had.”

  He spoke so tenderly about her. “What happened?”

  “I often met them in the park to play with Hope. Such a bright little thing, and Shelby just lit up when she interacted with her. But one day, she asked me to take her baby.”

  A chill shook Alyssa.

  “She didn’t have to tell me she was going back to drugs,” Ben said solemnly. “But she wouldn’t listen.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I took Hope home with me.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I loved Hope. No way was I going to let any harm come to that sweet little baby.”

  Alyssa didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine how a single man could take on the challenge of raising a child, let alone one who wasn’t his own.

  “I never gave up on Shelby, but we hardly saw her. She signed adoption papers. She died when Hope was two.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “She was such a good mother...so much potential.” The futility in his voice was still there after all this time.

  “So you worked to help the homeless.”

  “Shelby put a face on people less fortunate than me.”

  “So how did you discover Rainbow Lake?”

 

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